


The Only Girl in the (Wizarding) World

by lookingforpaperstars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grimmauld Place, In love but they don't know it yet, Library cuteness, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Post War, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Softness, Werewolf Remus, cuteness, mentions of sirius, wizarding war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-03-13 06:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforpaperstars/pseuds/lookingforpaperstars
Summary: After the wizarding war, Remus is struggling to connect back to the reality of post-war life. It just so happens that Hermione is attempting to navigate her future too. Can they help each other figure out what their future should look like?A little bit away from canon - Tonks is not dead and hasn’t been married to Remus; thus Teddy doesn’t exist.





	1. Returning to Grimmauld Place

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in a long time... I hope you all enjoy!

Remus looked up at the building in front of him, the drab bricks illuminated in the haze of the street lights. There was only one light on in the terrace houses, giving him a reassuring sense that he wasn’t going to be detected by muggles. He looked across the rain sodden road and stepped into it, his usually light footsteps reverberating off of the buildings and neighboring trees. As he approached Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the buildings in front of him appeared to shift, revealing a dreary building. As the house was revealed, a wide black door with a wrought iron knocker appeared. He stepped forward and climbed up the three steps to the front door. He hesitated none in unlocking the door with his cypress wood wand, hearing the single mechanism unclick. This was a new phenomena to him - when the war was in its heights there was every manner of protection on the building possible and it took several minutes to clear the boundary of the property; but now the war was well and truly over, the only people they needed to protect it from was muggles. With a nostalgic, happy sigh he proceeded through the door and down into the heart of the house: the kitchen. 

The kitchen was cleaner, brighter and less busy than it ever had been. Kreacher the house elf had warmed sincerely to Harry since the height of the war and had become a really efficient cleaner. He was fairly paid (to Hermione’s insistence), and was gifted with a set of robes that he can wear whilst cleaning; but on the agreement that being gifted the clothes does not set him free. It was Kreacher’s pleasure now, it seemed, to clean and make the former Black residence as beautiful as it was in its former glory. His eyes swept across the gleaming surfaces and saw an abandoned roll of parchment. He stepped towards the counter and gently thumbed the parchment, noticing “Hermione Granger” written upon it. His eyes flitted across the elegant, scrolled handwriting and tried to decipher exactly what he was reading. It seemed like some disjointed thoughts, but he wasn’t sure what they were and so didn’t wish to pry. 

When he planned his trip to Grimmauld Place, he wasn’t sure whether anyone was actually there. He knew Harry was busy building a life with Ginny and his children, and that Ron was occupied helping his brothers run Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. After the war, there weren’t many people left and fewer people that would be open to spending time in the place where many memories linger. He himself had a considerable amount of trouble distancing himself from the wall of grief that lay within the house, and that was truthfully what had prevented him from returning sooner. But a lot of time had passed since the end of the war and he finally felt ready to return to where he’d spent a considerable amount of time throughout his life. In fact, he missed it. 

He progressed from the kitchen, leaving the parchment in its rightful place. Seeing the parchment with Hermione’s name upon it had opened up a lot of questions for him: was she here? Was someone else here? He couldn’t prevent the hope bubbling up inside of his stomach, his smile slowly building on his flushed features. He slipped off his traveling cloak and hung it on the serpent coat rack in the corner of the hallway, before turning on his heel and climbing up the stairs. He passed the faded patches of wall where various Black portraits use to be (they’d been moved to Kreacher’s new bedroom), and climbed to the second floor. If he was going to satisfy his curiosity and find out whether Hermione was in the house, he knew exactly where to go: the library. 

He crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room, the scent of soft vanilla candles mingling with the smell of old books. It was such a divine scent that if he were to be gifted amortentia, it would inevitably smell of this very library. He surveyed the room and laid eyes upon Hermione, sitting cross legged in the large leather armchair with an oversized tome resting upon her thighs, her soft skin illuminated by the low candle light. She was clad in a fluffy Hogwarts dressing gown and fluffy slippers, her hair tied in a loose bun atop her head, a few stray curls sticking up from it. His heart hammered heavily at the sight of her looking so relaxed, comfortable and tranquil. 

“Hermione, hello!” He murmured into the quiet, his voice cracking lightly with anticipation. Through the years his voice had remained soft, light and gentle; mimicking his persona perfectly. 

Hermione looked up from the book upon hearing the dulcet tones. She slipped a discarded strip of parchment to mark the page that she’d reached, her eyes surveying Remus. Her eyes trailed down his figure and noted that his brown slacks and cream shirt were in better condition than they had when she last saw him. Her heart filled with happiness at that realisation and she beamed up at him, sliding the book onto the armrest of the chair before standing.

“Hello, Remus,” she said, a little too loudly, still somewhat taken aback at the sight of him.

“How are you?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, pulling his crows feet into view. 

“I’m well- I’m really well actually. I came here as a holiday, really. My parents memories have come back entirely now and the exhaustion of it all hit me now that I’m not focused on researching the workings of the mind… So I thought I’d step away from everything for a while. My parents understand, of course, and they’re also very happily taking a holiday in order to compartmentalise everything that I’ve told them and the fragments that have come back together in their minds!” She paused, her brow furrowing lightly. “Merlin’s beard, I’m so sorry! I completely ran off on a tangent. Gosh. How are you, Remus? What brings you here?” 

Remus had begun to glow with happiness whilst listening to Hermione speak. She was one of the many people that he had lost touch with after the war and had wanted to catch up with; and the update she had just accidentally blurted to him had, unbeknownst to her, given him an intensely powerful burst of happiness. 

“No, no, Hermione, please don’t apologise. I’m glad that you’ve just told me all of that. I did, after all, ask how you are!” He chuckled softly. “I’m well. I wanted to come back here with a view to figuring out what to do in the future… I didn’t realise you’d be here; I hope I’m not imposing on anything?” 

“No, of course you aren’t imposing! Don’t be silly, of course you aren’t. I think we both came here with the same idea, and it’s honestly nice to have some company. This house feels too big to be alone in. Even though it isn’t as creepy as it used to be, it is still wildly unsettling…” she emitted a nervous chortle, silencing herself upon realising that she had started to ramble once more. 

Remus moved further into the room and sunk into the luscious sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him. He looked across to Hermione, who was slouched comfortably in the armchair, smiling tenderly at him. He mirrored her smile, comfort washing over him at the familiar company of Hermione. He had spent a lot of time with her during the war and their friendship had blossomed beautifully throughout the span of it. Though most of their meetings had been related to the Order of the Phoenix, there were several occasions wherein they shared more private discussions about their thoughts, feelings, and often merely about the books that they were reading. The two had found a common ground and they had begun to build some indestructible foundations for friendship. They both felt inherently comfortable around each other, and even though they had been apart for a while it was immensely easy to slip back into their old ways.

“I’m honestly glad that I came here tonight… I’m even happier that you happened to be here at the same time. I’d forgotten how nice it is to see a friendly face. I’ve been alone for weeks.” He sighed softly, though his smile never faded, the fondness for Hermione escalating. “I’ve been working on my house in the countryside, but I think I’m ready to come back to civilisation.” He chuckled gently, his eyebrows raising. “There’s only so much chocolate a werewolf can eat!”

The sound of Hermione’s laugh was like music to his ears. She tipped her head back and bellowed a joyous laugh. He beamed as she laughed and soon enough he couldn’t stop his own laugh escaping him. He barked out a hefty laugh and shook softly with the amusement.

“I suppose you’re right!” She laughed, her voice quivering with laughter.

The laughter died down shortly afterwards and they sank into silence once more. The only sound that could be heard throughout the whole house was the soft whistle of the wind that crept in through the gaps in the window seals. The candle beside them continued to burn, the scent delightfully filling the room, somehow making their reunion even sweeter. Though silence had fallen upon them, awkwardness didn’t fill the room. It felt natural, comfortable even, and neither was in a particular rush to fill the silence. As the minutes passed, the comfort continued to build. They both shuffled in their seats, sinking into the plush blankets and pillows that had been brought into the room. It was, eventually, Hermione who broke the silence and Remus startled a little bit, despite the fact that he had been watching her intently. 

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her words etching themselves into the momentary silence that had fallen between them. The sharp intake of breath from Remus followed immediately after her words, penetrating the silence that had resumed. 

He couldn’t honestly believe that she was telling him that she’d missed him. Sirius was the last person to tell him that he’d been missed, and that was back when Remus was teaching at Hogwarts and had come to the harsh realisation that Sirius was, in fact, innocent. He had said it right before Remus had transformed into his lycanthrope counterpart, and the memory plagued him to this day. He hadn’t managed to say it back, and had never told him. He liked to think that somehow, Sirius knew that he was deeply missed by Remus. Those years where Sirius was discussed in the news were the saddest times of his life. He was, after all, his very dearest friend. Being told he was missed by Hermione meant more to him than she could ever know. He breathed in deeply and attempted to combat the butterflies in his stomach. 

“I’ve missed you, too, Hermione.” His tone was soft, gentle and loving. His eyes glistened with months of unshed tears, the overwhelming emotion of reuniting with one of his favourite people filling him to the brim. He blinked softly, his smile slowly growing into more of a grin. “I really, really have.” 

They stared intently at one another, their eyes sparkling and bright smiles on their flushed faces. Remus was pondering how much he cared for Hermione and the undeniable attraction that had crept back into his heart after being near dormant for months. Hermione was thinking about her affection and the undeniable allure that she felt tugging her to Remus. 

They were both thinking the same thing whilst sitting across from each other… And neither of them knew it.


	2. His Saviour

Remus readied to excuse himself for bed before long, leaving Hermione in the library to pour over her book for a little while longer.

“Goodnight, Hermione,” he whispered softly, breaking the peaceful silence that had befallen them after their declarations of missing the other.

He stood slowly, his muscles pulling uncomfortably as he did so. His legs and his back in particular were pulsing with discomfort, but he suppressed it as he always did. He had gotten rather used to being in some form of discomfort and he never felt the desire to burden another individual with his complaints. Besides, he had found an excellent stockist of pain relief, so he had little reason to complain. He just had to attempt to remember to take it when he got to his room.

“Goodnight, Remus…” Hermione replied gently, her sentence seeming incomplete. She held his gaze for a little longer than he was accustomed to and even though he found this odd, he continued to stare at her intently, imploring her to proceed.

“Remus? How have you been getting on? Have you managed to get a supplier for your wolfsbane?” Her voice was kind and empathetic, and Remus felt a small flashback to Lily Potter. She was uncommonly kind and her personality was replicated in Hermione. No wonder he felt a pull to her, too.

He smiled at her softly, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a while. He slid his hands into his pockets in feign nonchalance, rolling up onto the balls of his.

“I’m yet to find a consistent supplier. Much to my disdain, nobody seems to make it as well as Severus. I have perused numerous potion makers and none seem to be up to the task.” He paused for a moment, full of thought. “Some potioneers don’t even want to make wolfsbane. I suppose the stigma is still there.” He said with a sigh, his shoulders drooping at the mere memory of it.

He zoned out for a moment, buried in his own memory of that day. The day wherein he was forced to feel like he did during the war: repulsive. He had entered a potioneer’s shop and enquired their prices and output time for a batch of wolfsbane and the clerk had chortled before saying that they don’t “serve that kind of creature” in their establishment. A shiver rippled down his spine.

“That’s horrible, Remus.” Whispered Hermione, disrupting Remus’s reverie. It was probably best that he was broken away from that memory - it was one better off stocked in the section of his brain that he didn’t tend to pursue.

“I do hope you gave them a piece of your mind!” She said bitterly, her icy tone slicing through the gentle silence. “According to my studies of the lunar cycles… You need to find some soon, do you not?” She stood as she spoke, walking over to him and standing directly before him, looking up at him with twinkling eyes.

He looked down at her, noting the delicate twinkle in her eye. He smiled down at her gently, raising a hand to gently pat her arm. Awkward though it was, he felt a curious tingle in the palm of his hand where his body touched hers. With a sharp intake of breath, he dropped his hand.

“I didn’t, I’m afraid, Hermione. I couldn’t find my voice. It’s shameful, I know.” He chuckled, an embarrassed undertone present. “Unfortunately I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Hermione seemed to ponder for a moment, her eyebrows knitted together. He watched her intently, his gaze intense upon her. He would love to know what she was thinking at that exact moment. In fact, he had always wanted to know what she was thinking - she had always seemed largely enigmatic to him and never failed to surprise him with her brilliance. She really was a beacon of hope in his life, and once more he felt an overwhelming happiness at the fact that he had come to stay at Grimmauld Place at the same time as her.

“Actually!” She suddenly spoke, making him jump a little. “I actually have a large vial of wolfsbane potion from when I was on the run with Harry and Ron… I didn’t know what was going to happen and I wanted to always be prepared- I mean, you were often visiting Shell Cottage and Grimmauld Place, so I felt it prudent to keep a vial with me just in case… I made it with extreme care so it should still be okay. I can have a look through my trunk tomorrow and see if I can locate it?”

Remus felt relief so powerful that every other emotion slipped out of his mind. He breathed in deeply, absorbing the relief in its entirety. He was so grateful for Hermione’s quick thinking and efficiency. He also couldn’t help but feel a pang of adoration towards her; she had made a batch of wolfsbane potion on the offhand that she’d bump into him and find out that he was without a supply. His heart pulled at that fact, and he smiled lovingly.

“Hermione that is so unbelievably kind of you. I truthfully don’t think anyone has ever done anything so kind for me…” He whispered, suddenly unable to find his voice.

He was absolutely bowled over with her kindness although he wasn’t entirely sure why he was surprised. She always had been immensely kind to him; even upon finding out about his lycanthropy. She was one of the few people who remained amiable and good-natured towards him after finding out about his “furry problem” as his best friends had lovingly nicknamed it.

“I would be indebted to you. I would very much appreciate it if you could locate it. But tomorrow. It’s late now.” He said softly, once again raising his hand to softly pat her arm. The motion felt a little awkward, but at the same time he felt an irresistible magnetic pull towards her.

“Oh, Remus, you wouldn’t owe me anything. I like being prepared and this time it has paid off! I like knowing that my hard work is coming to use, even if it is later than I expected,” she laughed, “It would be my pleasure to help you.”

“Thank you again, Hermione. But for now, I’m going to go to bed. I trust you won’t be long to retire to your own bed? Try to resist the pull to stay up reading all night. If you do, I shall know!” He chuckled, feeling a humour filled light-heartedness in his chest.

********

He left the library shortly after bidding Hermione goodnight and made his way upstairs to bed, where Kreacher had carefully laid out his few belongings and had placed plenty of blankets on his bed. He always requested this when visiting because the house wasn’t the best shielded against the seasons and tonight was particularly cold. He took in the room in front of him and sighed contently. He had never noticed how poorly cared for the house used to be when Kreacher was unhappy, but now it was glaringly clear. He had always been more than pleasant to the house elf, but the master of the house - his best friend - was uncommonly unfair to him.

He pushed the thought of his best friend to the back of mind, deciding that now wasn’t the time to open up old wounds. He had had a more than pleasant evening with Hermione and wanted to keep that at the forefront of his mind rather than pull back negativity.

He thought of Hermione whilst he got ready for bed. He thought of her soft caring smile, her loving eyes, her compassionate demeanour, her delicate yet powerful voice, and how relaxed she looked in her lounging clothes. He also couldn’t help the indecent thoughts that slipped to mind though he quickly beat those away. He had always felt an undeniable pull to Hermione, however much he denied it to himself, but he always pushed the thoughts away deeming himself too old and Hermione too sensible to even consider it. He didn’t allow himself to indulge in such thoughts for fear that she would somehow find out and he would lose one of the best people in his life.  
But maybe now, things were different?

The thought hummed around his mind as he climbed into the four-poster bed, tugging the sheets over himself in a cocoon, fighting against the cold. He cozied into the pillows, his body completely relaxed. It was just a shame that his mind wasn’t quite up to speed with the fact that it was now time to rest and relax.

He thought of the way he felt for Hermione. He wasn’t sure how he’d categorise his feelings when he didn’t actually know what he felt. Was it friendly affection? Was it romantic interest? Was it infatuation? Physical attraction? Lust? Love? Had he been denying his feelings all these years? Had the war changed his perspective on things and forced him to realise his feelings?

He felt more confused than ever. He eventually resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to figure it out tonight. He raised his hand and gently flicked his wrist, closing his eyes as the lights turned off in the room, plunging him into a peaceful darkness.

He woke the next morning after perhaps the most peaceful rest he had had in years to the smells of breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, baked beans, fried bread, pastries… He got out of bed without a second thought and headed downstairs to see what was on offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much happens in this chapter, but I felt it necessary in setting the scene and building up the story. I don't particularly want to rush this one, nor do I want chapters that are too long - so I hope you can bear with me whilst I figure out the pacing! The next chapter will be from Hermione's POV, and then the scene setting will be done and it'll be time to properly get into the story. Woo!


	3. Her Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spend some much needed time together, and decide to visit a bookshop...

Hermione hummed to herself as she swished through the kitchen, her slippers allowing her to slide against the smooth floor. She had woken in extremely high spirits. Her evening with Remus the day before had truly lifted the weight of sadness from her shoulders and she had so much energy that she didn’t quite know where to put it at first - so she decided to make them breakfast. She’d probably overdone it, but she was aware that Remus’ transformation was due soon (she’d been studying the lunar calendar for months), and she knew he required more food. The more food he ate, the better he felt post-transformation and the quicker he recovered from it.

So far, she’d cooked sausages, bacon, hash browns, baked beans, fried bread, toast, and eggs were slowly sizzling in the frying pan. There was so much food that it could possibly rival a Hogwarts breakfast. Kreacher had protested passionately when she informed him that she was going to be cooking breakfast, and had only settled when she assured him that he could make supper, as long as he promised to eat some breakfast too. He had warily agreed. She supposed he still wasn’t quite adjusted to being cared for and being given compassion, but he was adapting in such a way that she found herself in a constant state of pleasant surprise.

The sharp sound of stairs creaking broke Hermione out of her reverie, and she whipped her head round to the door - seeing Remus, clad in fitted trousers and a loose white shirt. She had to double take at his attire for she had never seen him look so… dapper. Handsome. A plethora of words came to mind, and she had to restrain herself from saying them.

“Good morning, Hermione,” he intonated, his soft voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Good morning, Remus. I took the liberty of making breakfast for us, if that’s okay?” She questioned, stepping forward to the cooker and flipping over the eggs.

“The eggs will be done momentarily… and everything else is already done. I seem to have timed it rather well!” She continued with a chuckle, her body buzzing with energy.

“That would be perfect, Hermione. Thank you so much for doing that. Shall I sit here?” He asked, gesturing to the grand table which had been a hub of activity in the Order’s prime.

Hermione nodded wordlessly and finished cooking breakfast. She quickly plated it all up and placed a plate piled high of luscious food in front of Remus with a soft laugh.

“Sorry if I’ve overdone it. I… Thought- that…” she faltered for a minute to assess his expression which, to her surprise, was one of pure elation. “Because the full moon is soon that it would be best if… if you ate more than normal? I do sincerely apologise if I have overstepped though.” She smiled bashfully at him, her cheeks turning a gentle rosy pink.

Silence fell for a minute and Hermione became occupied with looking at her plate, shyly picking up a piece of bacon and cutting it. When she looked back up at Remus, she was stunned to see that he had his mouth full of food to the point wherein his cheeks were puffed out, akin to a ravenous hamster. He smiled through that, somehow, and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s perfect, Hermione. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough.” He murmured after swallowing, his eyes bright with happiness. “This is absolutely perfect. It’s just what I needed. Please don’t fear that you have overstepped. I don’t think you ever could.” His voice was reassuring and her body eased colossally with his gentle demeanour.

With a smile, Hermione continued to eat. They chatted here and there throughout breakfast, but they had both found themselves too engrossed in their food to hold a thorough conversation. Mostly, though, Hermione found herself watching Remus eat; feeling her heart hammering beneath her chest as she did so. She had no idea that making someone so happy could give her so much joy. Or, perhaps, it was just seeing Remus so happy that had given her a mass of jubilation?

The pair finished breakfast and leaned back in their creaky chairs. Hermione looked at Remus and chuckled, a slight snort escaping her as amusement filled her. She couldn’t quite believe how much the two had eaten; there was barely a scrap remaining. She was suddenly relieved that she had already filled a plate for Kreacher and left it warming in the grill.

A peaceful silence fell between the two of them; a silence that Hermione felt herself melting into. She enjoyed just hearing the soft pattern of his breathing and the gentle tones of his shuffling. It was Remus who broke the silence first.

“What are you planning on doing today?” He asked with a bright smile.

“I was wondering whether you’d care to take a trip to Flourish and Blotts with me?” She asked gently, her cheeks flushing a delicate rose.  
He didn’t hesitate for a single beat. The lack of hesitation honestly surprised her a little and pushed her excitement through the roof.

“Of course, I would love to! Is there anything in particular that you’d like to buy?” His eyebrows rose with his inquiry, a certain tender tone to his voice… Or was she just imagining it?

She took a slow, steady breath inward as she pushed her feelings to the back at her mind where they rightfully belonged. She had no right imagining that Remus would bear any affectionate feelings towards her aside from platonic. She didn’t even know what she was feeling towards him yet, either. Everything had happened so quickly that she hadn’t managed to properly fathom what her thoughts meant.   
  
“Yes… Well, not really. I’ve been lacking reading material since I returned and I finally feel like perusing Diagon Alley.” she replied.

It was indeed true that she hadn't felt like travelling to Diagon Alley because she didn’t feel ready to see the effects of the war on the wizarding shopping central. She fondly remembered when she was ten years old and she was purchasing her Hogwarts supplies and she didn’t desire to have those memories marred. Even though it had been rebuilt quickly she hadn’t, until now, felt ready to see it.

“Would you like to get going now?” Remus asked, gesturing towards the hallway where their shoes and jackets resided.

“Yes, please! If you’re ready, of course.” When Remus nodded in reply, Hermione followed him into the hallway and put on her shoes and jacket. She turned to Remus excitedly and beamed ear-to-ear. He returned the grin, and they advanced out of the door and quickly apparated to Diagon Alley.

 

*********************

Hermione felt a bizarre sense of melancholy as she walked along the cobbled pavement of Diagon Alley, heading directly to Flourish and Blotts with Remus close behind her. The street didn’t look as different as she feared it would. The shops had been repaired and rebuilt to look identical to their former glory, if not better, and the whole area was bustling with activity. She weaved in and out of excited first-years poring over their equipment lists, looking at them with fondness. She glanced out of her periphery at Remus who, too, was watching the youngsters stumbling around, laden with bags with a ridiculous grin on his face. It was so thoroughly phenomenal to see the wizarding community returning to normal once more without the imminent threat of Lord Voldemort looming over them. It was an even better feeling, in fact, that everyone knew that he could never return. It gave her an air of freedom that she hadn’t felt since her first year at Hogwarts, when she was (mostly) blissfully unaware of the world outside of the wooden paned windows of Gryffindor tower.

The two wordlessly walked into Flourish and Blotts. She paused momentarily as the waft of books - both new and used - overwhelmed her senses. She was home.

The two parted to look at their preferred sections. Hermione veered towards Wizardographies and Remus towards the section overstuffed with used books. She smiled at him as they parted and gestured towards the till, wherein she had silently asked him to meet her. She glanced up at the shelves and immediately noticed a plethora of new titles crammed onto the shelves - all of which were about those that had survived the wizarding war. There were books by wizards, goblins and elves whom had survived Voldemort’s torturous method of gaining information, books by wizards exploring a multitude of theories of how the wizarding world was going to change after Voldemort’s collapse and - most remarkable - there was a title from a former Death Eater, telling his story of Voldemort. It had quickly climbed to the top of the Daily Prophet’s bestseller list and was widely acclaimed.

She pulled the book from the shelf and thumbed through it, subtly smelling the pages as she did so. She flicked to a random page and read.

_‘“The Dark Lord was very persuasive. If you didn’t fall victim to his ways, you can’t truly understand. I don’t say this as a means to relieve myself of any guilt or escape any punishment, but he did not leave me with enough brain matter to have conscious thoughts about what I was doing. He trapped you into a mindset wherein all you could think about, and do, was his bidding. Now that he is gone, I can finally think clearly again and truthfully, I can’t tell whether I was bewitched all of that time. Regardless, I know I did wrong, and I am happy to pay my dues for what I have done.” Says Elliot Lux, one of the Death Eaters responsible for the collapse of several muggle cities. He is currently serving his time in a high dependency unit in St. Mungo’s and is expected to be transferred to the newly rebuilt Azkaban prison in the next four months.’_

She was immediately absorbed into the book, but closed it and pushed it underneath her arm so she could continue her search. She ran her index finger across the spines of the books, paperbacks and hardbacks alike, occasionally becoming intrigued by a particular title and tilting it out of the shelf to get a better look. She picked out another three, holding them all underneath her arm with some difficulty.

After going over the Wizardographies numerous times, she proceeded onto the newly established “Muggle Bestsellers” section, which had been erected after Voldemort’s demise when it occurred to everyone that Muggles and Wizards should work collaboratively, not against one another. In an attempt to bridge the gap between Wizardfolk and Muggles, the owners of the shop had implemented a section of current Muggle bestsellers. Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach as she stood in front of the impressive collection. In the back of her mind she had always felt a little resented in the wizarding community, and when Voldemort rose to power once more it was mainly ‘her kind’ that had become the main target for Voldemort’s abuse, and it was a heartwarming sight to see this array of books in a predominantly wizard bookshop. It made her feel like she truly belonged and that people were willing to accommodate her, too. She also couldn’t help but feel a powerful sense of acceptance from her fellow wizards - they clearly wanted to become more familiar with ‘her world’; this was a relief that she didn’t particularly know she needed.

She looked at the titles in front of her and felt her heart skipping with excitement as she absorbed the variety of titles that they had - young adult, fiction, non fiction, adult, romance, horror, science fiction, fantasy… the owners had evidently pulled out all of the stops. Before she knew it, Hermione had picked through the shelves with vigour and had picked off another armful of books. She had picked up an array of titles (mainly fiction, romance and fantasy). She had been missing out on a lot of amazing titles, it seemed, and she could not for the life of her restrain herself upon seeing all of these books which sounded phenomenally interesting to her. She didn’t really see why she should restrain herself, either, so she followed her desires and picked up more than she could carry without a single regret.

Soon after, she returned back to the foyer of the bookshop and was greeted by Remus, his arms also full of books. Between the two of them they seemed to have picked up an eclectic arrangement. He beamed at her without hesitation and she returned it quickly, feeling a skip of happiness deep in her heart.

“Hello! Did you get anything good?” She asked, wandering over to the register and putting her books down with a crash. She paid and moved to the side, allowing Remus to pay also.

“I did. Did you? We could go through them when we get back, if you’d like.” He smiled softly, handing over several coins to the cashier. He scooped up his books and the pair exited the shop, back into the hustle and bustle of the crowded street.

 

*********************  

The pair laughed rambunctiously as they stumbled through the entryway of Grimmauld Place, their arms aching underneath the weight of their books. They proceeded straight upstairs and into the library where they had resided the previous evening. They put their books down with a loud crash, both of their piles teetering ominously. With a chuckle, Hermione turned to Remus and smiled.

“Thank you for that. I really enjoyed it. I am yet to find a pleasure more dear to my heart than looking through a book shop. Feeling the crisp pages beneath my fingers, the soft smells that vary from book to book… The wonders that bookshops hold will never not impress me. I am always astounded with the magic that pours out of bookshops, even though I’m a witch. The magic emanating from bookshops is so much different to the magic that you and I perform… I can’t really explain the way books make me feel-” she cut herself off with a bashful laugh.

“Listen to me, rambling about books! I’m sorry, Remus. Pardon me.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, embarrassing heating her entire body.

“Hermione, dear, please do not worry about talking to me about your passions. You seem to forget that I, too, share the same passion as you and inevitably feel the same way about bookshops as you. I understand your hesitation, though, in that not everyone understands the appeal and so you hide it away. But please don’t with me. About anything that you are passionate or excited about. It is important to pursue these endeavours, so please do not hesitate to do so around me.” His voice was gentle, caring, with a passionate sharp edge to it.

When Hermione finally forced herself to look up, she was startled to see that Remus was standing right in front of her. In her embarrassment, he seemed to have crossed the room without her noticing. But now, it was all she could notice and it was as if the room was closing in on the two of them. But instead of feeling panicked she felt safe and comfortable, with an undeniable cloud of chemistry shrouding them.

“Thank you, Remus…” she whispered, quickly finding herself short of words. His words meant so much to her; so much so that she didn’t quite know how to navigate her gratefulness.

She approached him slowly, closing the gap between the two of them. She stretched out her arms as she approached him, her hands trembling delicately as she felt the fabric of his jacket beneath her fingertips. She placed her hands on his hips, holding them there for a moment before sliding them around his back, softly grazing over the small of his back. Her fingers laced together tightly, pulling him to her in a crushing hug; every single part of their bodies melting together in the most exquisite cuddle that she had ever had.

He felt her hands lace around her back after a breath, his fingers splaying out across her back. She suddenly felt small in his strong arms, but it was a smallness that she was more than willing to succumb to.

Silence fell between them thickly but warmly, the two feeling an undeniable comfort as they stood holding the other. She felt breathless, weightless and free from worry as she stood in his arms. She wanted to get closer to him but didn’t know how; she felt a longing that she had never felt for any person in her whole life. She couldn’t help but wonder how Remus felt, too, and wished that she was a talented Legilimens, but she knew she wouldn’t ever do that because it felt like a massive betrayal of trust.

Just as her thoughts were beginning to consume her, Remus shuffled. He slid his hands up her back, then softly laid his head on top of hers, their few inches height difference allowing them to adjust comfortably to this new position. He tilted his head so that his cheek nuzzled into her hair momentarily, before tilting it further and placing a firm kiss on the top of her head. He remained still, his lips nestled into her thick locks of hair. The sense of affection filled them both to the brim, the electric energy humming throughout the room, the buzz travelling through their bodies rapidly as they remained holding one another.

As they embraced, Hermione felt a massive weight lifting from her shoulders. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had enjoyed a day so much - perhaps during her time at Hogwarts with her friends - and she felt all of a sudden that life was normal again. Better than normal, in fact. She felt an all encompassing happiness engulfing her, and she allowed herself to be swallowed by it.

Unknowingly, he had become her relief to the sadness she didn’t even really know she was feeling.

  
_Remus, love, you have made me happier than I ever thought I could be._ The thought followed her around, even after they had broken away from the hug and gone about their day. Though the hours ticked by, they never left each others’ side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is slowly building and I am very much enjoying watching it unfold. I hope you all enjoy this! I really appreciate all of the kudos you lovely bunch have been leaving for me and I can't wait to upload more chapters. I do hope you're enjoying the pacing that I've chosen for this. :)


	4. A book a day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Remus spend the evening in the library, reading and enjoying each others company. But can more come from it?

The evening closed around them slowly; the dark clouds gathering, bringing with them a light drizzle of rain. The two sat together and ate an impressive meal courtesy of Kreacher and chatted throughout the entire duration of their mealtime. They didn’t chat about anything in particular, but they felt so at ease with one another that they didn’t feel the pressure to create riveting conversation. It flowed easily and comfortably with lots of laughter - just what Remus needed. It had been a considerable amount of time since he felt he could sit and talk aimlessly with a friend, and to be able to do so with Hermione just made the moments even sweeter. Though they talked of nothing serious, merely the weather and plans for the next day, he had enjoyed the conversation more than he knew he ever could. 

With the evening came a strain of tiredness that tugged at Remus’s muscles, causing his body to become weary and drained. Though he hadn’t exerted himself physically on their outing to Diagon Alley, he had experienced a deluge of emotions which had in turn exhausted his body as well as his mind. It didn’t help that it was getting close to the full moon and naturally his body became enervated.

Though his body suffered as the full moon approached, his mind did not. It was a common misconception upon those who were inexperienced with his “furry problem”, as his best friends James and Sirius had dubbed it, that his mind became volatile as the full moon approached. In fact, he found himself becoming quite the opposite - anxious, gloomy, wary and tender. He knew that there were werewolves out there who did possess the stereotype and he empathised with them completely, but it gave him a stroke of happiness that he wasn’t one of those. 

He found that not harbouring this trait made it even harder for him to understand the prejudice against werewolves. It infuriated him that the wizarding community tarred them all with the same brush when in actual fact they were all entirely unique - just as ‘regular’ humans were. No two humans are the same, and there are no two werewolves that are the same. They each present differently around the full moon and Remus knew he was one of the fortunate ones. 

Remus leaned back in his chair at the grand dining table of twelve Grimmauld Place, pushing his plate away from him with a satisfied sigh. As he leaned back, a slight swell in his stomach became more pronounced and he shuffled in an attempt to make it feel a little more comfortable against the strain of his snug slacks. Since the end of the war his weight had increased mildly, but enough for his clothes to begin to be a little more snug. Though happy about this progression, he definitely felt the increase in his waist whenever he was extremely well fed. He was being immensely well fed under the care of Hermione, who encouraged him to eat as much as he possibly could. The only time he could remember eating so much was when he was at Hogwarts and Sirius and James would sneak down to the kitchen to sustain him and his small frame. He smiled at the thought, his heart filled with happiness at the memories of his dearest friends.

He knew Hermione intended to stock him up ahead of the full moon; she knew how physically demanding the transformation was. She truly was the smartest witch. Years ago she had told her that she was the brightest witch of her age that he’d ever met, but since then he’d recounted that phrase and altered it simply to the brightest witch he’d ever met. Her ability to store knowledge, her rapidity in learning, her passion for intellect and her keenness to learn everything about any subject was unlike anything he had ever seen in anyone before. The only person who rivalled that was perhaps himself when he was a teenager and learning gave him the escape, and assurance, he needed. He saw himself in Hermione, and as she grew older he had begun to feel an unbreakable connection between the two.

He was snapped out of his thoughtful, tender reverie by the soft angelic voice of Hermione breaking through the silence that had fallen between them without his noticing.

“Remus?” Hermione’s voice was gentle and curious, with an edge of amusement to it. 

He started, immediately turning his attention to her, all thoughts forgotten. “I must apologise. I- Think I momentarily slipped away!” 

He didn’t want to give her any time to enquire as to what had taken his attention away from the conversation, and so with a nervous chuckle he stood, pushing his chair back under the table before looking up at Hermione with raised brows, the smile still playing softly on his lips. 

“I did admittedly wonder where you had gone!” She said with a joyous laugh, the tones of which made his heart pound. She too stood up, watching him with eager curiosity and mild delight. Her eyes sparkled softly under the candlelight of the dining room, the orange of the flames highlighting the soft mahogany curls of her hair. 

“I must be a little tired,” he mused, his face flushed with slight embarrassment and thorough amusement. “I also ate a lot so it could well be that…” he added, rolling upward onto the balls of his feet; a very mild fidgety tic.

“I think so!” she agreed with a laugh. “Would you like to settle in the library for the night? I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet but I don’t want to do anything overly taxing.” 

Remus nodded immediately, barely skipping a beat to agree to Hermione’s idea. Reading before bed? Excellent. Lounging on the plush sofa in the dimly lit room? Even better. Spending time with Hermione? Absolute paradise. 

“Okay! I’ll go and get changed into something more comfortable and meet you there,” she said softly, walking ahead of him and ascending the stairs. He narrowly resisted the urge to watch her walk up the stairs, but occupied himself instead by looking at the pattern on the carpet as he too padded to his own bedroom. He shut the door behind him with a soft sigh, leaning against the oak door for a moment. 

“Remus, you daft old sod.” 

**********

Remus entered the library donned in a pair of loose PJ bottoms and a offwhite t-shirt. His eyes immediately located Hermione who was already sitting comfortably in the chair across from the large matured oak shelves, opposite to the sofa that Remus would occupy, in a pair of fluffy PJs and a dressing gown. She looked like the exact definition of comfort, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and nuzzle her. She looked warm, comfortable and infinitely enticing. The low light in the room accentuated the coziness that she emitted, and it took every single ounce of his strength to resist going over to her and requesting they share the singular chair. His heart pounded at the thought and he took a second to compartmentalise the thought and store it away in his mind along with the plethora of other inappropriate thoughts he’d been having about Hermione since they reunited here at Grimmauld Place. 

He had truthfully thought his feelings from the last time he saw her during the war were circumstantial, perhaps based solely on emotion due to the tragic losses they had all felt. But he was starting to wonder whether there was something else there instead; something more intense and undeniable. 

Not wishing to disturb her more than he already had, he crossed the room and sank into the sofa, shuffling the pillows in order to create a comfortable seat. Remus laid back on the antique sofa after leaning the pillows against the armrest, pulling his legs up and stretching them out in front of him. He nestled against the pillows with a soft sigh, his body relaxing against the softness; his muscles uncoiling the further he relaxed.

He placed the soles of his feet against the sofa, bent his knees up towards his chest and perched the book against his thighs, propping it open with the thumb of his left hand. 

He didn’t settle down to read immediately however - he glanced over at Hermione who was whizzing through the book that she had only just started. Her features were brightened with a soft smile (one that he couldn’t help but mirror), and her fingers were already turning up the corner of the next page, preparing to flip it over. With a soft breath, she turned the page and continued reading. 

This is a little bit weird, actually Remus scolded himself, frowning. He hadn’t realised that he had momentarily zoned out whilst watching her, completely fixated on watching her turn the pages. Why am I watching her read? If she saw me, she’d probably be mortified… Of course she would be. What would she want with me? What would she assume of me? She certainly wouldn’t think there was a good reason to me watching her, that’s for sure. Merlin, I don’t know what I’m doing! He continued to scold himself for a few moments more, shuffling absently on the sofa cushions as he did so. He felt completely unsettled and uneasy with himself now; though he couldn’t identify whether that was because he had done something wrong or whether that was his nerves piquing. 

Since the war had ended, Remus had been partaking in regular therapy. He saw a therapist once a week to attempt to work through some of the deep-seated issues that he had developed over time, particularly surrounding his lycanthropy. The therapist allowed him to vent his spleen, confess his secrets and generally chitchat. It had come to light in one of their first sessions that he seemed to believe himself to be a sick, disgusting individual (a trait that she had identified about him immediately, to Remus’ surprise) who was convinced he was unworthy of love, friendship and compassion. Together they had begun working through this roadblock; yet now he was on his own he couldn’t define whether his thoughts were anxiety based or legitimate. 

Regardless, he turned his attention to his book and began to read, allowing himself to escape to another world.

***********

The pair continued to read in silence; the only sounds between them were the crinkling of paper as they turned to the next page, the soft occasional shuffle and their gentle breathing. The house had fallen into silence around them as Kreacher retired to his bedroom for the night, and the rain had ceased leaving the night air still and silent - the perfect atmosphere for reading.

“Remus. Would you mind terribly if I laid on the sofa with you?” Hermione’s voice, though only a whisper, broke through the silence.

Remus looked up from his book with sheer surprise, eyebrows raised in surprise then furrowing in sheer confusion.

“I- sorry?” He asked, bumbling over simple words as confusion washed over him. 

“I cannot get comfortable. I simply just cannot. I’ve spent the last half an hour shuffling this way and that attempting to get comfortable and it just isn’t happening! I feel bad imposing on your space but you look incredibly comfortable and I have begun to feel a little bit envious.” Hermione ended her ramble with a chuckle, and Remus couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks had tinted a soft rose. 

“Oh- of course, Hermione. Of course, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable!” He replied keenly, shuffling on the sofa a little more to make room for her. He unfolded his legs and lay them flat. He pressed his side to the back of the sofa, too, allowing her a sizeable amount of room. At least, he hoped so.

She had wasted no time in jumping out of her seat, crossing the room determinedly with her book hooked under her forearm, her finger wedged between the pages to hold her place. She sat down with a heavy sigh, a sound that Remus noted was sweet and melodic, which made his heart pound heavily. He watched her get comfortable with a rapt focus, his brow raised minimally in fascination. He couldn’t refrain from noticing her beauty; the way the soft candlelight danced over her face, the way her hand clutched onto the book and how her legs drew up to her chest to both warm her and hold the book open. He startled away from his staring only when he realised that he had, in fact, been staring at Hermione’s legs for a small while. His mouth turned from a passive smile to a grumpy frown and he cursed himself inwardly for being so careless. 

Thankfully for Remus, Hermione hadn’t noticed due to becoming enraptured with her book once more. 

***********

Hermione tried desperately not to notice Remus watching her with a careful concentration as she sat down. She frowned, though only momentarily, in wonderment at what he could possibly be staring at. A quick glance down at her attire had confirmed that she hadn’t spilled something on herself, nor had something torn. Ruling that out only left her clueless, however, which left a strange sense of confusion tingling in her brain leaving her impossibly distracted from her book. Thankfully throughout her years at Hogwarts she had managed to perfect the act of seeming unwilling to be disturbed due to Harry and Ron’s obsessive need for her to finish their homework for them, and so she employed the tactic ardently; she just hoped that it would be able to fool Remus, whose intelligence certainly rivalled hers in an unparalleled and undebatable way.

She heaved an almighty sigh as he returned back to his book, which allowed her to weaken her intense faux concentration. She relaxed her entire body and slouched a little easier against the cushions, feeling her body melt into the sofa with a sense of ease that wasn’t present before. She knew that it wasn’t Remus that had caused her to feel uncomfortable - not directly at least. It was her feelings that stemmed from being stared at by Remus that made her feel vulnerable and a little wary; though she couldn’t truly tell whether those particular emotions frightened her or excited her. Perhaps it was both of them simultaneously. 

As time passed, she began to feel increasingly comfortable. Every so often, she would glance away from the pages of her book and up at him. She watched as the candlelight danced over his salt and pepper hair, the way his brow furrowed gently as he turned a page, how his legs shuffled every now and then, and how his chest rose and fell with his steady breaths. Every time a breeze passed through the single-glazed windows, her senses were overwhelmed with his sweet scent - comprising of old parchment, chocolate, vanilla and the scent of the crisp pages of the book he was reading. She took the deepest breath she could muster (without inciting questions) and allowed the scent to fill her. 

Every time she did just that, her heart thumped harder against the ever tightening walls of her chest. The more time passed, the less able she felt to deal with it. 

***********

Unbeknown to the pair of them, Remus was feeling the exact same as Hermione, whilst also feeling an unwavering sense of disquiet. 

***********

The cool early night gave way to an icy, blustery early morning. The ancient grandfather clock situated downstairs rang shrilly with twelve even, blunt notes. Remus startled from the unintentional slumber he had unwittingly fallen into and looked toward the doorway as if to follow the sound of the interruption. It only took him a mere moment to recall where he was and how he had spent the night. He looked across to Hermione with a sheepish expression and was met with a fond smile. He returned it without hesitation, his entire persona brightening instantly at the sight of her soft features.  
She had remained where she had been all evening (though he noticed the fresh hot mug of cocoa next to her), and had made substantial progress on her book. His smile grew as he took in more of her; noting how her hair was now becoming messy, her entire demeanour seeming cozier and more ready for bed. Yet, her eyes remained alert and searching.

“I do apologise, Hermione. I dread to think how long I’ve been asleep…” He began, his tone questioning.

“You haven’t been asleep all that long actually. Perhaps the last thirty minutes or so. I would have stopped you from dozing off, only I felt you might need the sleep…” she hedged around the subject warily. 

“I appreciate that. I probably do need the sleep. I, like you, simply do not fall asleep whilst reading a book.” He spoke through a chuckle. 

“Of course not!” she agreed with a laugh, reaching over to the table and placing her book gently upon it. He watched her every movement, his attention thoroughly grabbed by the gentleness of her. 

“How are you enjoying your book?” he asked conversationally.

“Oh I’m rather enjoying it! It’s about a group of people who go back in time to accurately document history. They go back thousands of years - even into the prehistoric years! You follow their journey as they go through different time eras and you also get to read a lot about their personal lives and them as people too… One particular part I enjoyed was about the Library of Alexandria! That was particularly thrilling because they were trying to rescue some documents and to look through the catalogue to see what was there. It is thoroughly fascinating and it is evident that the author has done an extraordinary amount of research. Though I know it is predominantly fictional, I can feel the reality behind it and the way history has been captured is thoroughly entrancing. I am having a lot of fun reading this book whilst also learning a lot about muggle history! Quite a lot of it I wasn’t taught in primary school, either, which is extremely exciting. Normally when I read something like this, nothing really surprises me. But this really has. I would recommend it Remus, if you’re interested!” she babbled, and Remus listened with thorough captivation. 

“That does sound incredibly intriguing, Hermione. Might I borrow it when you’re finished? I don’t read as much muggle fiction as I would like to, and I definitely think it would be in my best interest to read something as unique and interesting as that. Is it a single book or does it unfold into a series?” he asked, curiosity etched on his features.

“It’s a ten book series if I remember correctly. Possibly more, though I truthfully can’t remember if the author has completed the series or not. I am rather excited about it being a lengthy series though! And of course you can borrow it, be my guest. I have a lot of books that you could look through, if you would like.” Hermione spoke gently, a tone of curiosity in her voice.

“I would love to. Tomorrow, perhaps? But for now, I must go and get some rest. I really have enjoyed tonight Hermione, and have thoroughly loved your company. I would be overjoyed if we could spend tomorrow together if you don’t have any prior engagements.” His heart began to pound with the anticipation of leaving Hermione for the night. Though it wouldn’t be for too many hours, he knew that being apart from her after spending all day together would be somewhat taxing and he wasn’t overly keen on the idea. A part of him wished that they could remain together, though the logistics of that would be rather tumultuous to navigate. 

“Of course! Yes, you should get some rest. I think I will join you-” she gave a small laugh. “Not- I don’t mean… You know what I mean, don’t you?” she asked, a strong blush tinting her cheeks.

“Yes, I do, Hermione.” He responded kindly, hoping to reassure her with a soft smile. What she didn’t know was the way his heart was shooting desperate pleas for her not to retire to her own bedroom. He didn’t want to leave her yet, and even though he didn’t quite understand where the feeling had originated he couldn’t refrain from embracing it. What other choice did he have? 

“I don’t have any prior engagements, so it would be a joy to spend the day with you. We could go out again? Although the weather does seem to be getting more ghastly as the hours go by, so perhaps not the best idea. We could remain indoors and do the same as we did today. I have been away from reading for some time so I do have some catching up to do… If you’d be so inclined as to join me. Of course I understand if that isn’t something you would care to do, but I thought I would extend my offer.” 

Remus jumped to reply immediately, wishing to reassure her worries. “No, I would love to stay here with you. I’m feeling rather exhausted so I don’t much care for going out more than necessary. I fear it may sound boring, but why go out when one can explore words from the comfort of their own home?” 

Hermione nodded in agreeance as he spoke, a large smile brightening her features. “Here, here!” she called enthusiastically with a soft laugh. 

The two remained in happy silence for a few more minutes. Neither spoke, nor did either of them make the effort to abandon their comfort in order to make their way to bed. They simply remained where they were, watching one another with happiness. Somehow, all of a sudden, staring at Hermione didn’t quite feel so awkward. He had eased into it considerably. It seemed that the secret to his comfort was talking to her and realising that she was in fact at total ease with him. As the minutes passed by, Remus began to feel more comfortable with everything that he was feeling. Yes, he was colossally confused by the sudden affection he felt towards Hermione, but he wasn’t going to allow that to squander his enjoyment of spending time with her. In fact, the more time that passed, the more comfortable he felt with his feelings and the more confident he felt overall. 

“I… really should go to bed,” Remus’ croaky voice broke the silence. He cleared his throat with a chortle. 

“We both should, I dare say,” Hermione responded gently, untucking her legs and twisting on the sofa, placing her sock-clad feet on the floor in front of her and placing her hands on her thighs. 

It took another couple of moments for them both to move, but when they did they both stood together. They turned to face one another and smiled gently, each of them opening their mouths as if to begin to speak and then sharply silencing when they noticed the other seemed to be preparing to speak. With a chuckle, they watched one another. They seemed to have become synchronised in their movements; each mirroring the other so effortlessly. Remus sighed contentedly as he watched Hermione lean down to retrieve her book. He watched as her long elegant fingers danced over the hardcover, elegantly curling around the spine and resting onto its covers. He momentarily envied the book - though he knew envying an inanimate object was bizarre.

“Goodnight then, Hermione,” he spoke softly. Similar to the last evening, he stepped towards her and pulled her into a soft embrace. His body melted into hers, and he felt her arms snake around his back, clutching onto him tightly. He ran his open hand across her back and sighed contentedly, taking in her sweet scent - lilies, vanilla, and cocoa. Her scent was divine, and he could lose himself in it. 

She withdrew slowly from the hug but didn’t let him go completely; and nor did he. She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, and he looked down at her with similarly wide eyes. Unbeknown to him, every single emotion coursing through his overactive mind was displayed clearly in his eyes; though whether Hermione could understand what they meant was unclear. He smiled gently at her, his hands gently pawing at her lower back from where they absently rested. 

Time passed, but neither moved.

They remained looking at one another; waiting for either one of them to make the first move. 

Remus did exactly that - but it was a move that neither of them saw coming. He snaked his arms back around her tightly, drawing her body ever closer to his. He allowed the comforting warmth of her to guide him, and looked intently into her eyes. He stared deeply into them, noting the gentle specks of colour that varied between each. He noticed the soft curve of her nose, the gentle drop to her supple lips. The light plumpness of her cheeks... 

He leaned in towards her now with little hesitation, lowering his head, never once breaking the eye contact that they had forged. The tips of his unruly fringe danced against her forehead, brushing against the velvet skin. His breath quickened in anticipation, his chest sharply rising and falling and colliding with hers on each inward breath as he pulled her closer. He paused for a moment as their noses brushed, allowing her an out if she did so desire it. Her only response to this was to lean in considerably closer to him, however, to the point wherein he could feel her breath on his own lips. She had risen an inch or so, allowing him to stand a little straighter and ease the tight muscles in his back. He smiled softly at the realisation, his upper lip bumping against hers as it curled upwards. Keeping his eyes fixed upon her lips he leaned ever closer until their top lips were softly colliding, the supple skin of hers delicately brushing against the coarser skin of his. 

His breath caught deep in his chest at the contact, his entire body shutting down for a fraction of a second while he attempted to gauge her reaction. He didn’t need to wait long, however, because she soon closed the remaining gap between them and crashed her lips against his with a gentle urgency. He responded immediately and returned the kiss with the same urgency that she delivered, allowing every single emotion to be poured into the kiss. He moved his lips against hers softly, parting his lips ever so slightly in order to get a taste of the sweetness that teased him so delicately. He felt her lips part beneath his, the kiss deepening with a passion so intense.

The feelings that erupted inside of him were nothing like he had ever felt before; he was filled with an undeniable lust, a remarkable attraction an immense feeling of adoration for the woman in his arms. He held her tighter towards him, his lips moving against hers determinedly, sharply and with fervor. He was spurred on by her fingers clutching at the fabric of his top, allowing his tongue to slip over her bottom lip with delicate tenderness. His tongue collided with hers with a passion so unruly, and their tongues tangled, teased and brushed, the taste of her erupting his senses. 

Hermione released a soft groan into his mouth, the vibrations startling him back into reality. He pulled away, breathless. He rested his forehead against hers and looked deeply into her eyes. 

“Hermione I-” he began, his body erupting with a plethora of emotions.

“Remus, you needn’t say anything. Your body is saying everything for you.” She responded, equally breathlessly, lacing her arms over his shoulder and linking her fingers at the back of his neck, pulling his head closer to hers in order to bridge the gap. She did so quickly, bringing his lips back against hers in a collision so fierce. He was taken aback by the brazenness of her actions (though why he had expected anything else he was unsure), but allowed her to lead them into another kiss, even more passionate than the last. Their bodies moved against one another with an undeniable heat, each trying to get the other impossibly closer. 

“It’s not enough-” Hermione breathed against his lips, her hot breath heating his face. 

His eyes widened as understanding raked through him. He nodded simply, and glanced around the room as if asking the empty space where they should go. It wasn’t long until the answer became apparent in his head and he pushed her back against the sofa, guiding her as her legs slowly crumpled and sent her colliding onto it. He went with her, his body mimicking hers, their kiss resuming with clumsiness, passion and eagerness. 

He was completely taken up in the moment until he realised what he was actually doing. He was currently laid on a sofa on top of Hermione Granger?! What was he doing, and how on earth did everything escalate this fast? A million questions raced through his head but one of them remained at the forefront and he knew if he didn’t voice it now, he would never forgive himself.

“Hermione- are you- are you sure you want me- this?” he asked, regaining his senses. 

Hermione scoffed quietly beneath him and swatted his shoulder. “Yes. I am. Please don’t start, Remus. I can think for myself. I want this. If you recall, I asked for more. So please, no worrying. Just enjoy. For me. No angst about who you are, what you are, what you’ve done, how bad you are for me. I don’t care to hear it. I can make that decision myself. We are two people in the moment, please just enjoy that.” 

Hermione’s bluntness was a welcome resolution to his worries. They melted away without a moment of hesitation. He knew she was right - if she didn’t want this, she would’ve stopped it; and she certainly wouldn’t have asked for it. If she didn’t want this, she wouldn’t have allowed it. He underestimated her for a split second, and he made a vow in that very moment to never do it again. 

“Now kiss me, Remus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the cliffhanger. I wanted to split this up so that I could take my time with it; I didn't want to rush it and squeeze it all into one chapter. Eeek! Hope you enjoyed. Sorry for the gargantuan hiatus.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a few years since I've written a fanfiction. I hope everything reads well and has gotten off to a good start, and I hope that you all have enjoyed the first chapter! I'm probably a tiny bit rusty and my pacing could do with some work, but I hope that you've enjoyed it regardless. I'm so happy to be back at writing fanfic and can't wait to build on this story!


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